


Snack

by charlotteschaos



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 05:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteschaos/pseuds/charlotteschaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the series, a notion of an interaction in one of Hannibal and Will's "chats."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snack

"No. No, Dr. Lecter. That is not what I'm saying at all." Will Graham rubbed his hands over his face. The leather chair grunted with each move, no matter how minute. What was it with psychiatrists and their love of provocative chairs? Was it yet another test?

Everything with Hannibal Lecter felt like an extended examination. Perhaps it was a side-effect of his occupation. A physician before moving to the psychological, maybe it was habit to try and splay all of the facts before him before coming to a conclusion. 

Will was free not to talk to Dr. Lecter. He called him doctor, but Will wasn't in formal treatment. It was a dubious distinction. He still had to find a time when Dr. Lecter was available, make an appointment. But they were free to be friends.

Friends. They weren't friends though, were they, or Will wouldn't call him doctor. Yet Will had told Dr. Lecter more than he'd confided in anyone. He liked to pretend to himself that it wasn't because of Dr. Lecter's profession. Will knew all of the tricks. He understood the methods that psychiatrists employed to get people to open up. Dr. Lecter came at him sideways, he seemed to understand better what Will was going through than even Will did. That made it easier.

But after Will left the office, he had questions. Once the door to the office was shut, it felt like a wall too hard to scale. Not just because of Hannibal's personal boundaries, but because Will was too mentally exhausted to even attempt to understand Dr. Lecter's motives.

Perhaps that's why he felt so safe with Dr. Lecter. He was not an emoter. Normally people were so eager to talk, so few just wanted to listen. Being around another person left his head so cluttered with that person's thoughts, Will couldn't even hear his own. Dr. Lecter seemed more than content to listen, to offer opinions, to probe deeper without leaving the impression of his own thoughts. 

It should've been disturbing, but it wasn't. it felt safe.

They were both leaning forward in the black leather chairs sitting across from each other. Just as Will was hyper aware of the noises his own chair made, Dr. Lecter hadn't mastered the art of complete silence in his chair. Dr. Lecter rose fromt he chair. His footfalls were soft as he crossed to Will.

Strange. Usually when Will became overwhelmed, Dr. Lecter backed off, gave him room. He seemed to know better than to allow Will to get his back up, because once he did, he shut down. After that, Will couldn't help but attempt to pick a fight. 

Will took a deep breath, feeling the irritation fill his chest. This was not the pattern, this was typical human behavior. Will shows distress, the other person comes in close, touches him, offers him comfort. Their concern was suffocating. It put him in the position of telilng them he was all right when he was clearly the furthest thing from it. 

Dr. Lecter knelt down in front of Will. Classic psychology practice. Get on their level.

"Will. What do you feel?" Dr. Lecter's breath was tinged with wine. Alcohol in the office wasn't strictly professional, but this was after hours. Was Dr. Lecter resorting to the typical because he was drunk?

The clumsiness, the drink, the invasion of his safe space filled Will with rage. He wanted to lash out, to hit, to throttle, to do anything, but he was not a violent person. 

Will dropped his hands from his face. Dr. Lecter's face was inches from his. Will had expected a portrait of concern, but Dr. Lecter's face was inscrutable. If anything, a little bored as if he understood the motions he was going through. 

Will wanted to shock him out of it, wanted to turn things inside out. He leaned in and pressed their lips together. Briefly. Not even a kiss, a play act of what a kiss would be. LIps touch, the faint feel of an exhale, and then Will returned to his personal space. 

Dr. Lecter's expression did not change. No shock. No repulsion. Perhaps his brows had furrowed slightly, Will couldn't remember. Then with preternatural speed, Dr. Lecter's hand was at the back of Will's neck. Then their lips were pressed together again but this time, more than the soft skin, the aftershave, there was pliant wetness. Assertive, but not aggressive, available but not wanton. An invitation to take.

Will's cheeks burned. This wasn't what he'd meant by his gesture. He'd meant to shake things up, which apparently he had, but there was no particular passion in Dr. Lecter's embrace. A fierceness that could be mistaken for such, but Will was too attuned to emotions not to feel the difference. And yet, Dr. Lecter's embrace was unrelenting.

No, this wasn't an invitation to take, it was a demand. 

Will parted his lips and hated himself for being so weak. For all of his prickliness, for his defenses, he crumbled at even the least show of force. And he had opened this door. Even though this was not what he'd anticipated what this would lead to, he trusted Dr. Lecter didn't meet with him like this for simple physical seduction. 

Trust. Did he know enough about Dr. Lecter to trust him? He hadn't given him reason not to. Or he had given him all of the reasons not to and Will chose to ignore them. 

Had Will subconsciously led them here? 

Dr. Lecter's skilled, smooth surgeons hands were making short work of Will's button up shirt. HIs hands were warm on Will's chest. His fingers traced over his heart, then lower like he was outlining each organ, incision points for harvesting organs. Had Will discussed the Chesapeake Ripper with him? Were the touches designed to help spur Will's thoughts in a direction of empathy for that killer?

A squeeze of Will's nipple brought him in strict focus on Dr. Lecter's face. 

Will took a deep breath, trying to come up with the correct words to veer them off this course. His mind couldn't work with all of the physical stimulation. This wasn't going to work. But before he could say as much, Dr. Lecter claimed his mouth again, this time with rough determination. His hand was down Will's pants. Dr. Lecter swallowed all protests, or would have had Will been capable of making any.

The touches were practically an assault, precise and simple, designed to cause a strictly physical reaction. Will was embarrassed by how swiftly his body responded, but then, his mind and body had often been at odds.

Dr. Lecter broke the kiss. Will wasn't sure what to expect. Perhaps an arched brow and a debonair turn of phrase to diffuse the awkwardness of the situation. If there was one thing Dr. Lecter was good at it, it was moving on from the uncomfortable.

Instead, Will was met with dilated pupils. At this range and in this light, Will could see eyes he'd taken for brown but looked almost red. He didn't appear amused or upset, or even aroused. He looked...hungry.

So delicate was Dr. Lecter's touch that Will heard rather than felt the zipper of his pants come undone. Before Will could protest, or move, or even consider what was going to happen, Dr. Lecter's mouth was on his cock. The doctor moved smoothly, swiftly. It felt more like it was meant to be an extraction of his release than a sensual experience. 

Will didn't fight it. He melted against the chair, winced at the extreme suction around him. He dug his fingers into the leather. It was too much, too fast. His pulse raced. It didn't matter that he didn't want to come, Dr. Lecter knew the mechanics of the human body and how to manipulate it. 

Normally, Dr. Lecter was hard to read, purposefully obscured. Like this, he was more animal. His need radiated off of him in waves. Dr. Lecter didn't want to get Will off, he wanted to devour Will and keep something inside of him, even in some small part. This wasn't a release, this was a feeding.

There was little time to enjoy the rush or the build up before his toes curled, his body stiffened and he released into Dr. Lecter's mouth. 

The doctor handled it quickly and efficiently, swallowing and sucking till Will was tender and jerked away. Dr. Lecter rubbed his thumb to the corner of his lip to fix the dribble. His tongue rolled quickly over his lips as if he were savoring it. 

Will watched, gasping for breath as he tried to find a thought to cling to. 

"Don't look so shocked, Will. It is perfectly natural." Dr. Lecter didn't look in the least bit ruffled. Not even a hair is out of place. 

"I'm not shocked."

Dr. Lecter gave him a look. A small quirk of his lips pinpointed the humor of the situation. Will hadn't even put himself away.

Will took a steadying breath as he covered himself with his hands. "I just...I didn't realize that you were... I'm not...attracted to men."

"Will," Dr. Lecter waved a hand to clear the air. "Attraction, sexuality, it has little to do with what our experience is. Such connections are vain, shallow. They are as much reflections of society as they are of our own will. I do not let such simple concepts keep me from what gives me pleasure."

"So that was for you, not me." Will tucked himself away. 

Dr. Lecter retreated to his chair. He eyed him in that bird-like way he had that made Will feel like little more than an interesting worm. "Does that bother you?"

Will exhaled as he buttoned his shirt. "It's a relief, actually."

"So you did not enjoy it."

Will averted his eyes as he digested what had happened. The episode seemed distant and unreal now. Dr. Lecter sat across from him and they were back to their familiar pattern. "I don't know."

Dr. Lecter relaxed back in his chair. "Let's move on then."


End file.
